


like the past (it was gone)

by problematic_pleasures



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crying, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Endgame, endgame spoilers, heavy on the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematic_pleasures/pseuds/problematic_pleasures
Summary: It's not quite a nightmare, but it's haunting Peter all the same.





	like the past (it was gone)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by RDJ's video of the outtake where he kisses Tom's neck during the Hug Scene. This takes place some indeterminate time after Endgame, so you're welcome to picture Peter whatever age floats your boat.
> 
> Enjoy!

Peter’s not expecting it when the lips brush his neck ever so tenderly. He stiffens in Tony’s arms and then clings to him tighter. Quietly, he says, “Oh, this is nice,” and clutches at Tony before he can pull away. Except Tony isn’t pulling away; he’s holding Peter just as tight and his lips are burning against Peter’s neck.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter breathes.

Tony steps back and Peter wakes up.

He sits up in a cold sweat but at least he’s not gasping for air this time, like the last four nights. He presses his hand to his chest and feels his heart flutter like a hummingbird, then shifts to rub at his neck. He can still feel the phantom heat of Tony’s lips against his skin. He grips his neck tight enough until his nails are digging deep welts.

“Peter?” Pepper’s voice is heavy with sleep.

“It’s nothing,” he rasps.

The bed shifts as Pepper sits up and reaches for him. She wraps her arm around his chest and pulls him back to lean against her.

“I’m here.” She presses her face to the back of his neck. “I’m here, Peter.”

Peter swallows.

“You’re here, too,” she adds.

“I know,” he manages to say. “I know.”

Pepper holds him close and for a while they just breathe. In and out, in and out. Peter swallows around the lump in his throat and says, “Tony.” But that’s all he can get out before his throat is closing up with grief.

Pepper holds him tighter. Her nails bite into his chest for how hard she holds him. He can feel every shuddering breath that wracks her lithe body; he can feel her heart thudding like a jackhammer. Peter finally lets go of his neck and lays his hand over Pepper’s, where it rests over his heart.

Peter inhales deeply before turning and tucking himself against Pepper’s chest. Her arms wind around him easily and his own arms wrap around her waist. They’re pressed tight together from shoulders to waist. Peter hides his face against Pepper’s neck.

“I miss him too.”

“I know,” Peter says, voice cracking in the middle. “I know, Pep. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, shh,” Pepper coos. “No, that’s not what I meant.” She kisses the side of his head and leaves her lips there. She speaks against his hair. “I just meant...You’re not alone, Peter. Not with me.”

He sobs. He’s aware of his tears leaving tacky tracks against Pepper’s skin. The cries lodge in his throat and he coughs them out, weak and rasping sounds. He shakes as he cries and even Pepper’s arms aren’t enough to hold him together.

But she tries, and Peter clings to her the way he did to Tony on the battlefield. He cries until his eyes hurt and his cheeks are sticky with salt and his body is wrung out and exhausted. He goes limp in her arms but still holds her, still greedily stays close.

“I’m here, Peter,” she says again.

When Peter dozes off, he doesn’t dream.

 

 

Peter stumbles out of the bedroom late the next morning and follows the scent of bacon to the kitchen. Pepper’s clad in an old sweatshirt and little silky shorts. Her hair’s braided and tossed over one shoulder, and she grins at Peter as he steps over the threshold.

“Sleep better?” She asks.

Peter nods. His throat is dry and he still feels raw from the night before. He meanders over to the coffeepot to find a steaming mug already waiting for him. “Thanks,” he croaks.

“Peter.” Pepper’s suddenly beside him and if not for his super-senses, it probably would’ve startled him. “About last night.”

Peter takes a long sip of coffee and stares, unable to speak, at Pepper.

“You’re allowed to miss him,” she says quietly. “I miss him, too. We’re allowed to miss him, and we never have to stop missing him. It might get easier, it might not. But…” Pepper sighs and shakes her head. “I’m losing my train of thought.”

Peter offers his coffee mug to her and she laughs.

“No, thanks.” She smiles at him and even though it’s tired around the edges, it’s no less beautiful. “I just want you to know that...I understand, that you loved him too. And he loved you. He loved you so much, Peter.” She reaches up and brushes his hair, the side that always has a cowlick. “Tony loved you, Peter, and you’re allowed to miss him now that he’s gone.”

Peter sets his coffee cup aside because his hands are shaking; spidey-reflexes or not, he’s pretty sure the mug would hit the ground before he could think to catch it. “You do, too.”

Pepper’s grin turns fond. “I know, honey. And I do miss him. But I’ve got a lot more practice with missing him.”

Peter nods.

“C’mere.” Pepper draws him into another hug and strokes her hands down his back. “We’re gonna be okay, Pete. We’re okay.”

Peter nods. He doesn’t flinch when Pepper just happens to turn her head, pressing her lips to the very spot that still seems to burn with Tony’s brand. He drinks in the feeling until the kitchen smells like burnt bacon and Pepper’s laughing, stumbling away, reaching for an oven mitt to fan the smoke toward the open window.

He watches her ditch the burnt bacon and start to cook up more slices. His hands still shake and his heart still races but when Pepper grins at him, shooting the look over her shoulder, and the sun hits her cheek just right, Peter thinks—

_We’re going to be alright._


End file.
